An Angel's Revenge
by d'Anima
Summary: Yami, an outcast angel, kidnaps Anzu, daughter of the wealthiest man in heaven, but they're both too busy trying to sort out their own lives to realise what a mess they're in. And Bakura? He's just trying to find out where he put his bowl of petunias. AU
1. Chapter 1

_**Rating: **Originally T, but put up to M due to violence and language._

_**Spoilers: **__None_

_**Author's Note: **__As of the 17/12/07, this story has been edited. This first chapter anyway. I'll work through the others as I can. The reason for this is that I've restarted this story after a few years, and my writing style has changed a lot. I'm not happy with how the rest of the story is, so I'm editing the earlier chapters. The plotlines will be the same, but the chapters will be changed to my style now and extended. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!_

-

Covering a yawn, a small angel jiggled as she sat on a hard wooden bench, watching as a court assessed her father's situation. At six years old, she didn't particularly like going to court (she never understood the men before her - prosecution this, charges that - their words ran together in a muddy stream of legalities and formality) and her view was only reinforced by her father's contempt for lawyers. A sharp rap of the judge's gavel startled her, and she turned tired eyes to the angel overseeing the hearing.

"The jury has reached a decision regarding your fate." The woman the judge addressed looked aged beyond her years. Her face looked like it may have once been beautiful, but she was thin, too thin, and _tired_, and her wings were dull and torn from neglect. Her mouth was pinched in sorrow and her shoulders slumped forward in defeat - a picture of resignation. But her eyes! They drew Anzu's gaze and locked it in, until she couldn't look away, even if she wanted to. They were fierce, unyielding - a deep, searing crimson - or were they more purple? She couldn't tell.

"The jury decrees that for the crimes you committed you will be condemned to death, and your son will be exiled to the mortal realm for an indefinite period of time. The judge stared coldly at the woman and turned his attention to the crowd. "This woman has stolen a substantial amount of money from the lord of Orlath. The sum will be paid back in double in reparation."

There were numerous murmurs of approval throughout the courtroom. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?" The judge asked the woman.

She snarled and spat on the polished wooden floor. "Nothing to you, maggot." The judge stiffened and motioned for the guards to tighten their hold on her.

"The case is now closed. Lord of Orlath, you shall receive your money within a week."

"A week!" Muttered Anzu's father as he gripped her hand, making his way through the throngs of bystanders. "Damned lawyers, I want my money now!"

"Does that lady really have a son, father?" Anzu gazed up at him, her eyes searching for some sort of reassurance.

"Probably, kitten. Look, that must be him now."

Flanked by guards, the woman knelt to embrace a boy not much older than Anzu. He had the same hard crimson eyes as his mother, but the oddest hair - black, red-hued spikes and golden bangs.

The boy's eyes met Anzu's, and she smiled and waved. He watched her silently, and then turned to gaze without any emotion as his mother was lead away to the guillotine.

_- Elven years later -_

Yami swung himself into the saddle of his horse and nodded to the men that stood before him. "Stay here, don't attract attention to yourselves. Now, who are you if anyone asks?"

"We are industrial workers and we are planning out renovations for this old, run-down building." The men chorused. Yami let himself relax a little. They'd be fine.

"Good. And remember; mortals aren't all that used to people who are undead. So behave. I won't be gone long." He looked around and shook his head. "I feel like I'm forgetting something." He murmured.

"Your wings, master?" One of the zombies growled in question.

Yami swore and withdrew his wings into his body. Best not to let any travelling mortals see them. He knew from experience the effect the unknown had on those people.

"Thank you. I will return with the target in several days. Now stay out of sight as best as possible." His horse shifted impatiently beneath him.

"Do not disappoint me."

-

Anzu knocked softly on the open door to her father's study. Without looking up, Menzero motioned for her to come in.

She did, shifting a stack of papers from a chair to the floor so she could sit. She smoothed out her white silk dress.

"What are you doing, father?" She enquired, eyeing the mass of documents spread over the deck.

"Oh, just putting the touches on a law suit. These poor suckers have no idea I'm framing them for plagiarism. By the end of this trial, we're going to have an extra hundred thousand to spend!"

"Father, _no!"_ Anzu exclaimed, horrified. "You said you'd ended all this! You've been doing it for years. It's got to stop."

"No, it doesn't sweetie, not as long as the cost of living is so high. How else are we supposed to pay bills and taxes? Do you want us to end up in the street?"

Anzu's cheeks burned. "That's not what I meant! You could start by getting a job and earning money the respectable way...the way everyone else does."

Menzero sighed and pushed back his chair. "I don't know kitten. That sounds like a lot of work!" He narrowed his eyes when she didn't laugh. "Anzu, this is the business world." He turned back to his files. "I don't expect a girl like you to understand."

"Father! I..." Anzu stood up, sighing. Their conversations always seemed to end this way. And they always seemed to be about money, and how to get more of it. _'Why can't he care as much about me as he does about our funds?'_ She started to walk out, stopping when she reached the door.

"But one day you're going to get caught." She informed her father before leaving. Stalking out of the house, she sighed - there wasn't much point in mulling over it too much - as she took to the air and drifted along lazily on the thermals, enjoying the afternoon sun.

At the sight of a large building made entirely out of coloured glass, she smiled and returned to the ground.

"Hello?" She called, stepping into the building and looking around. At once she was barreled into by a small child who wrapped his arms round her legs.

"Anzu! Anzu!" He cried in delight. "Have you come to play with us?"

Anzu laughed and picked the child up. "Yes Thomas, I have." The sight of the eager boy calmed her mind, and for a moment she forgot all about her troubles with her father.

For a moment.

She shook her head and smiled at Thomas. "Would you like to come to the park with me?"

"Oh yes, yes! I'd love to! I'll go get the others!" Thomas wiggled out of Anzu's arms and sprinted off to the children's rooms, leaping and stumbling about, trying to fly.

"Welcome, Anzu. It's good of you to join us here today." Anzu turned to see the matron of the nursery smiling kindly at her. A wizened little old woman, Matron had been head of the nursery for as long as anyone in the city could remember. She was growing weaker though, and Anzu feared her time there would end soon.

"Hello, Matron. How are you today?"

"I'm fine, dear. Would you like to take the orphans out?" The Matron pried a small girl off her leg and put her back in a playpen.

"Yes, if that's alright with you. It's such a beautiful day, and they really need some fun."

"Of course they do. Here they come now." About two dozen infant angels tore down the hallway and bombarded Anzu with hugs, questions and the occassional bite.

She led the orphans down to the nearby park, watching carefully as they practised their skill for flying (even if it only took them a few metres) and keeping them all together.

She settled herself underneath a tree and leaned back, turning the day's events over in her mind. She desperately wanted a way to help her father, to get things back to the way they used to be - no, the way she _wanted _them to be (she couldn't remember a time when her father didn't care for money over all else) but the realisation that he wouldn't change was numbing her mind. Perhaps, if she just closed her eyes and let the wind take her, let herself drift away, everything else would become just a memory. If she just...

_-_

Yami's horse picked its way down the mountainside slowly, taking care not to slip on loose rock or shingle. At the bottom, he took a look around to see where they had gotten to. Barricaded on three sides by mountain ranges, a bottomless chasm on the other, the overhanging cliff was tailor-made for any activities that one did not want seen.

After a surreptitious scout of the area - a double check for wary eyes - Yami dismounted from his horse and patted the beast's side, nudging it over to a lavender bush. He wandered to the edge of the cliff and peered at the thick fog rumbling slowly about the chasm, before walking quickly backwards towards the base of the mountain. He whispered the words of a forgotten language, and something appeared in the middle of the chasm - a portal, flickering like a candle against the wind, almost invisible. After a deep breath to steel his nerves, he started towards the cliff edge at a run. Nearing the brink, he ignored the wave of excited panic that rippled across his mind, and as the toe of his boot touched the edge, he spread his wings, pushed off, and flew through the portal, hissing in pain as his body disagreed with the realm shift.

He landed lightly on the ground in heaven, and straightened with a sigh. The end result never did seem worth all the hassle. He checked his phone, took a mental note of how much time he had left before the portal closed, and went in search of the girl.

He found her beneath a tree, apparently dozing. He moved behind her, knelt, and clamped one hand over her mouth, the other around her waist, yanking her roughly backwards. She let out a muffled shriek and struggled against him, but he pushed her forewards and twisted her arm up her back.

"Not a word, do you understand?" He whispered in her ear. Anzu nodded meekly.

Yami slung her over his shoulder and took to the air, flying back towards the portal. He expected the girl to scream, or cry, or something else equally damsel-like and distressed, but she instead rested her elbow on Yami's shoulder and idly drummed her fingers on his back. He turned his head to look at her, trying not to be amused.

"Would you stop that? It's irritating. You're quite calm for someone who's being kidnapped."

Anzu sighed and inspected his hair. "What do I have to worry about? You're probably just another beggar looking for father's money. He'll come and get me soon, and then you'll be sorry."

Yami arched an eyebrow. "Really? I suppose I should be worried then. As soon as he gets to the mortal realm, you let me know."

Anzu let out a squeak when she saw the gateway. "The – the mortal realm? Then you must be a sorcerer!"

Yami didn't even try to hide his amusement this time. "From where did you learn your astute powers of observation? Never mind - you won't need to observe much where you're going."

Anzu cried out and started whacking Yami's back with all her might.

Which wasn't all that much.

"Spoilt brat." Yami pulled Anzu in front of him and tossed her unceremoniously through the portal. He flew through and caught her on the other side while she was falling - looking pleased when he saw his horse still there, absently munching its lavender.

Now that they were safely on the ground, Anzu rounded on Yami.

"Who are you? What are you going to do with me? You aren't going to rape me...are you? If you do, I'll claw and bite and scratch you!"

Yami gathered his horse, hiding a smile. "No, I won't rape you. Although now that –"

Anzu shrieked and darted away. She took to the air, flitting through the crevices in the mountainside, doubling back and changing her path - _anything _to escape that man. He was different to her other kidnappers, that much she could tell. His very prescence was...dark. Terrifying, but exciting at the same time. She wasn't sure which part of it frightened her more.

As she turned into a mountain pass, there was a flutter of wings and Yami had her wrists in his hands. A half-grin formed on his face, and his voice lowered dangerously. "Don't make the mistake of thinking you can outfly me." He pulled her back to the ground, withdrew his wings and then withdrew Anzu's as well.

She panicked, and twisted her head to see behind her. "What did you _do _to them?"

"I spelled them." Yami lifted her onto the horse and swung into the saddle in front of her. "Two reasons: mainly so you can't fly away, and also because mortals are around here. They wouldn't take it well if you had your wings showing."

Anzu looked at her unbound hands and feet. "Shouldn't you tie me up? You're doing a rubbish job here. What if I run away?"

Yami shook his head and urged his horse forward. "You won't." The answer was simple.

Anzu scowled and wrapped her arms around his waist to keep from falling off. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew she wouldn't survive amongst the mountains on her own. Her best chances lay with the man in front of her. She poked her captor in the back. "What did you say your name was again?"

Yami half-turned his head to look at her. "I didn't. But if you must know, and I suppose you do, it's Yami."

"Well, that's a start. Mine's Anzu."

Yami turned his attention back to the path ahead of them. The girl's naivety was priceless. "I know."

He noticed that Anzu shivered in the cold wind. With a sigh, he fished about in one of the packs (looking surprised as he found a bowl of petunias in there) , took a spare cloak out and handed it to the girl.

"Here. Take this." Anzu smiled and put it on.

"Thank you. You're such a big softy, aren't you?"

"Not at all. I just don't want you dying on me. You won't be of any value if you're dead."

Anzu rolled her eyes and snuggled down inside the warm cloak. _'I bet father will hire a magician and come for me in the morning.'_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **__You'll notice that Anzu has a bit more bite in this story. Her character is far more similar to how she's seen in the Japanese anime, so I'm sorry if you've only seen the dub. But I recommend you watch some of the Japanese. There's only a few people who prefer the American once they've seen both. _

_This chapter has been edited as of 18/12/07. Thank you for taking the time to read this!_

-

Yami wanted a damsel.

Or a fair maiden. Or a princess. Or something else equally timid and predictable.

He never thought he'd think as much, but at that point, when he realised that the girl he had kidnapped was just as likely to faint in fear as she was to spontaneously combust - oh, now _there _was a thought - he was beginning to regret bringing her along.

"And father said that if any more beggars kidnap me, he's not going to fork out any more money. So you can forget about your little ransom cash. You _did_ want money, didn't you? ...It doesn't matter if you're only doing it for fame and attention. It's a common problem for men with erectile dysfunction."

Forget the beginning part. It was now fully-fledged loathing.

Anzu frowned at Yami's silence. "Hey, talk! Why aren't you giving me your life story?"

"...What makes you think I would want to?"

"Most of the people who've kidnapped me can't wait to tell me all the reasons why they're doing it, and all the reasons why they want to get revenge on my father. Don't you want to do the same?"

"Not particularly," Yami muttered dully.

"You're quite odd, aren't you?"

"You're quite experienced at this, aren't you? You certainly sound to have gotten around a bit."

"Don't imply things!" Anzu hit his back. "Well, you don't seem to be too bothered about it - the reason for wanting to kidnap someone. I thought you'd be angry, or moody, or something."

"Stop wriggling. And actually, right now I'm furious." He assured her. "So angry actually, that I'd have cut your throat by now if you weren't of use. You just can't tell that by looking at me."

Yami's face was the picture of composure, except for the impish twinkle in his eyes when he heard Anzu shriek.

"That's it, I want off this horse _now!_"

"Okay." Yami shrugged and slung an arm round Anzu's waist, dumping her into a patch of heather. Without looking back, he nudged his horse foreward.

"Wait!" Anzu stood up and brushed herself off. "I don't care if you're a psycho out to get revenge with a pickaxe, I need protecting!"

Yami grinned, but turned it into a frown when he turned back to her. "Hurry up, then."

They rode in silence for a while, until Anzu couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Assuming you _are _wanting revenge on my father, you never said how you were going to get it."

"You never asked."

"Well, I'm asking now. What are you going to do, demand compensation fees?"

"No, try and think of it as compensation by life. An eye for an eye, isn't that what they say?"

"Oh." Anzu fell silent, thinking. "Does that mean you're going to get some evil henchmen to kill him?"

Yami either didn't notice or chose to ignore the hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Actually, it's more rewarding if I do it myself. More vengeful, don't you think? It'd be much more suited to the dramatic monologue afterwards."

Anzu flinched. "You're cruel, did you know that?"

"Surprisingly, I do. You come to realise that after being called heartless, selfish, cold, sadistic, and deluded. Among others."

"Oh, I don't think you're deluded. You seem very intelligent. In a harsh, spiteful way."

"Why thank you. I feel ever so comforted." Yami answered dryly.

"And so you should." Bored of the topic already, Anzu changed the subject. "Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"Yes."

Anzu opened her mouth to ask if he was lying or not, then closed it. Before them stood a huge, run down Victorian-style mansion. It reminded Anzu largely of the ones she had seen in old vampire movies.

"Is this it?" She asked, dismayed. A long building to the left, probably stables, looked like it had been burned several times.

"Yes, this is my home. Don't let the outside deceive you though. It looks quite nice on the inside...very Florence Nightingale."

"I can imagine." Anzu muttered darkly.

Yami slid off his horse and lifted Anzu down. She stumbled and fell against him. Looking at her in disdain, as if he were holding a rat, he nudged her forward and held her at arm's length.

"You haven't ridden a horse much, have you?"

Anzu shook her head vigorously, her hand over her mouth. "No, only a few times, when I was little."

Yami rolled his eyes and led her to the door. "I'll get you a healing balm once we're inside."

He stood looking puzzled at the large wooden door, scratching his head. Anzu watched him, wondering what he was doing.

He tried out a few words and phrases, getting angrier when each of them didn't work. He finally blasted the door down with a shockwave of purple and black fire.

Looking extremely pleased with himself, Yami led Anzu into the old house. It wasn't as shabby as it looked on the outside; quite the opposite in fact.

Fluffy red carpet, lush velvet curtains, polished oak stairs; all the richness of the place made Anzu wonder if Yami got the money to pay for the stuff in the house the respectable way, or by just stealing it from a rich old lady who was about to shuffle off this mortal coil anyway. Or perhaps he helped in that department.

"Bakura!" Yami yelled and rapped on the banister of the stairs. "Get your ass down here. We need the door fixing again."

A snowy-haired teen trotted down the stairs. "Again?!" He cried, exasperated. "You do that too oft – hell-o." He stopped when he saw Anzu, a chilling grin spreading across his face. "Nice girl you got there. Looks a bit too chewy to make a good stew. Children are much more tender."

He ruffled Yami's hair abesently and got a whack for his efforts. "Might make a good casserole though, if served with a little bit of tomato and leek. I'm sure we have some somewhere..."

Anzu shrieked and slapped him. "Ow!" He cried, rubbing his face. He drew his hand back but stopped. "If you weren't a girl I would have snapped your neck by now."

Yami steered Anzu away from Bakura before she could hit him again. "But, he – he –"

"Never mind about Bakura. He just likes to take advantage of people, that's all."

Anzu frowned. "Are you calling me gullible?" She demanded.

"No, I wouldn't _dream_ of doing such a thing." He led her up the stairs and down a long hallway, stopping outside a fancy oak door engraved with roses.

"Here's your room." Yami opened the door and gently pushed Anzu inside. It was well-furnished, with a fire crackling merrily in the hearth, thick curtains and a glorious bed that seemed to call her name. Moving through to the bathroom, she found a bowl of what looked like petunias sitting placidly in the large and extremely elegant bath. Shrugging, she walked back to Yami.

"This is all _mine_?" She stared at him. "Aren't you going to put me in a cell or something?"

Yami laughed. "You did say your last kidnappers were beggars. No, you're too important to me to not let you be cared for properly."

"See, you really _do _like me!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't count on it. As I said earlier, you're not of much use if you're half-starved and near death."

He walked to the door, remembered something, and stopped. "I suggest you get some rest. And lock your door and windows when you go to sleep."

"Why?" Anzu asked curiously.

"Because there are some people here that might take the opportunity of an easy meal."

"You mean like Bakura?" Anzu rolled her eyes.

"No, I mean cannibalistic undead mortals-turned-zombies."

Anzu's jaw dropped. "This is another one of your twisted jokes, isn't it?"

"Not at all." Yami assured her calmly. "They make good minions, but they aren't exactly the best guests when it comes to dining in."

He grinned wickedly and flicked off the lights as he went out. "See you in the morning."

Anzu let out a small squeak and raced to lock up the room. For added security she shoved a large oak desk against the door and stacked heavy books against the windows.

That done, she collapsed on the bed, too tired to even crawl under the covers.

-

A loud banging against the door and muttered curses roused Anzu from her sleep. Someone was trying to open the door to her bedroom.

Trembling, she grabbed a carved ivory figurine from the mantelpiece and raised it above her head.

The person outside the door grumbled loudly and sent a bolt of magical energy hurtling through the door, smashing it and the attractive desk to pieces.

Anzu let out a battle cry and smashed the figurine over the intruder's head. Yami fell to the ground and struck out with his feet, knocking her to the ground.

He leapt to his feet and dropped into a fighting stance, then eased up when he saw it was Anzu.

"Oh." He paused for a moment, then helped her to her feet and grinned apologetically. "Sorry...quick reflexes. I thought you were attacking me." He blinked. "Which you were."

Anzu glared at him. "I thought _you_ were attacking _me_!"

Yami shrugged. "I only came to bring you this." He held out a small tub of healing balm. "And Bakura's fixing breakfast."

Anzu took the tub and backed away from him. "I don't care if you had been drinking, or hallucinating, or whatever last night when you were being nice to me, but if you beat me or rape me or hurt me, I'll – I'll –"

"You'll what?" Yami said patiently, crossing his arms.

"I don't know what I'll do, but when my father gets here he's going to take you to court and you'll get put in prison or put to death..."

He looked amused. "I was exiled from heaven. Your laws don't apply to me."

"What? What did you do?"

Yami remained silent for a while, gazing at her intently. "Nothing." He said softly.

"I did absolutely nothing. My family was accused of stealing from your father. But my mother never did anything like that. He set us up, so she was murdered and I was sent here. I wouldn't expect you to remember."

Anzu struggled to remember clearly, and then all at once memories came flooding back to her: a cold, rainy day, father bringing her along to a trial, a woman being lead away to the guillotine, and a small boy.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Anzu whispered. Yami didn't answer at first, lost in something she couldn't see.

"Yami?"

"Hm?" He snapped out of his recollection and turned to her, his face once again unreadable and without emotion.

"That day at the courtroom, that was you there, wasn't it?" Anzu said quietly, avoiding his eyes.

"That doesn't matter anymore." He informed her shortly. He turned to leave. "If you would excuse me, I need to practise."

Yami walked out the door without waiting for an answer, leaving Anzu standing confused and troubled. She sighed and seated herself at the window, drawing her knees up to her chest.

A flicker of moment caught her eye; outside she could see Yami and several of his men in the courtyard, pairing up and standing opposite to one another in a line.

Intrigued, she shuffled closer and peered out the window. A small boy - now where did _he _come from? - carried staves to each of the men. Yami thanked the child and gave him a gold coin, watching for a moment as he ran away happily.

Anzu heard Yami call out a count of one, two, three, and then he and all of the men took to the air, carrying out mid strikes, mid blocks, low strikes, low blocks, and so on, in a repeated pattern of movements.

It was strange, really. Anzu had never liked to watch soldiers practice their drills, but these men weren't soldiers, exactly.

'_Yeah, they're cannibalistic members of the undead_.' The little sarcastic voice in her head remarked.

The routine was beautiful, in a way. It consisted of twists, turns, pirouettes, dives, sweeping movements, all performed with the grace only wings could achieve.

Watching them, Anzu fell into a trance-like state. It was almost like a dance, but a deadly one at that. Too many times she heard the cries of men who had smashed their collarbones, or snapped off fingers and other assorted appendages.

But even more disturbing was what happened after the zombies were injured; the healthy got into groups and gorged on the injured, tearing their former comrades to pieces and greedily devouring the broken bones and shredded flesh.

Sickened, Anzu turned away and hid her face, the image of Yami just standing there and letting his men each one another burned into her mind.

'_What kind of monster would so something like that? It's disgusting_.' At the same time, she thought of the little boy Yami had given money too.

'_But then again, he's not a monster. Why can't he just be one type of person, instead of surprising me just when I think I've got him figured out? This is just too confusing_.' Her stomach twisted and a tear trailed down her cheek.

'_Father, I miss you. Where are you?_'


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **__Here's the updated version of Chapter 3. I'm still not 100 happy with it - something's not quite right. Please continue to review, to tell me what you think and help me improve. Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful Christmas._

_Updated as of 21/12/07_

-

"Good morning, New Hope Daycare Center, how may I help you?" The receptionist clicked her headset on and spoke into the phone.

"Yes, this is Menzero of Orlath speaking. I was hoping to find my daughter Anzu here. Have you seen her?"

"Why yes, your daughter was here a few hours ago. She took the orphans out to the meadow, but I'm afraid she hasn't returned yet."

The man on the other line growled. "Fine. Tell Anzu when she's back that she's to come home immediately. I have some important news for her."

"Yes, of course sir. I will inform your daughter as soon as she arrives. Thank you, have a nice day."

The receptionist pressed a button and switched to the other line. "Good morning, New Hope Daycare Center, how may I help you?"

-

"Damn it!" Menzero slammed his fist on his desk. "Where is she? She should have been home hours ago." He glanced out his window at the sinking sun. "It's getting late."

"Sir, she's probably on her way home right now. You know teenagers; they're always gallivanting off somewhere." Menzero's personal assistant said, trying to keep his patience. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and sniffed. This was not particularly the way he'd like to spend his evenings, this was not really the man he'd like to spend them with, and Anzu was certainly not the girl he'd like to spend them focusing on.

"You're probably right. But the suitor will leave soon if Anzu doesn't hurry up and get here." Menzero sighed and leaned back in his chair. He checked his watch again.

"I worked my ass off to get this deal and all she does is roam across the city like some, some _pauper_." He wrinkled his nose in disgust, the notion leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

His assistant sighed and slid a folder across the desk towards Menzero. "This is the marriage certificate draft you asked for. All that's left are the signatures." He stood up, bowing. "There's not much else I can do here, sir. If you don't mind, I'll probably head home now." Menzero merely nodded in response and waved his hand at him. "Yes, yes, off you go. I'll deal with Anzu when she gets back."

"Very well, sir." The assistant left, and Menzero was left to his musings. He knew, somewhere in the long-unused, hidden pits of his heart, that Anzu's constant wanderings were mostly due to the lack of attention she was getting at home. It wasn't as if she was neglected - he made sure she had everything she could want, and more, at her disposal. Money had seen to that. But the one thing she _did _want - love and affection - he couldn't, or rather wouldn't, give.

But, he reasoned to himself, that was one of the things he was hoping she would get from her impending marriage.

He grimaced and drew a hand across his brow. Who was he trying to kid? He would get a lot from this marriage (money and reputation not the least) but a certainty of Anzu's happiness? He wasn't so sure.

He stood to leave, to watch the business channel, or count his money, or do something to take his mind off his daughter. The files on his desk were flooded by fire as the last of the sun's rays filtered through his window, illuminating, among other documents, the marriage certificate. He wasn't sure at first, but for a moment he thought he felt something. Worry, perhaps. That the suitor would leave. That Anzu wouldn't be back for a while. Or maybe it was merely a side effect to those sleeping pills he had been taking.

Or maybe it was guilt.

-

"Hit, Yami." Bakura scraped his cards across the table lightly. When Yami didn't respond, instead staring absently into space, Bakura threw one of the chips at him. "I said, hit! Hit hit hit hit hit."

Yami blinked slowly. "Oh. Sorry." He dealt out the additional cards. "I saw your mouth moving but I wasn't sure if you were actually saying something or just garbling."

"Very funny. Good to see you're still on your game." Bakura sighed and threw his hand in. "What are you thinking about?"

"Does it matter that much to you?"

"Not really, but making fun of your troubles would give me something to do. Something other than losing all my money to you." Yami smiled and collected the chips. "True, then. I was just wondering if what I'm doing is right."

"Well in my opinion, of course it's not. You're always too damn good at games. It's not fair."

"I didn't mean _that, _Bakura. I meant taking Anzu." Bakura looked amused and spread the cards across the table. "So we're using her name now? Before it was just "the girl"...or "object of eternal damnation." He sighed at Yami's glare. "Calm down. You shouldn't be second-guessing yourself. It's too late now anyway. She's here and we're going to see this through."

Yami wasn't entirely convinced. "I keep thinking it's wrong, just taking her for her father's crimes."

"Idiot!" This time, Bakura threw all the chips at him. "This isn't the time to grow a conscience! Stop being a pansy ass!" Yami stared at him, surprised. "...Sorry. I didn't know you felt so strongly about it." He stood up, gathering his things. "Anyway, I'll be back later. Thanks for being partially useful."

Bakura waved at him as he left. "No problem!" He called. "Partially useful is my middle name. Hold on...get back here, you tosser!"

He grumbled and decided to find something fun to do.

And so it was that on the third day of her being at the old Victorian house, Anzu awoke to exasperated screaming and cursing.

Alarmed (as one would be from such sounds of torture), she ran to the top of the stairs and was met by the curious sight of Bakura seemingly attacking a toaster.

"Bakura?" She paused in her descent of the stairs. "What...are you doing?"

Bakura raised his eyes to her, irritated by the distraction. Couldn't a man destroy _anything _without interruptions these days? How he longed for the time when performing acts of reckless carnage was an accepted form of activity for Sunday afternoons. Now all anybody did was go to the bloody pictures. Bloody pictures and their increasing prices and decreasing popcorn sizes.Curse them all.

He shook himself out of his reveries of disgust. "I found this object in the angel realm yesterday." He muttered and turned back to his annihilation of the toaster. "It's an inter-realm spy that transmits messages in the form of grilled bread. Look at this!" He waved a piece of toast under Anzu's nose. "This one has a diagram of the tree in our backyard on it."

Anzu tilted her head to the side and squinted at a lopsided smudge. "I don't see anything that looks like a tree...anyway, it's just a thing that cooks bread." She took the mangled remains of the toaster from him and placed them on the counter next to her. "For eating."

"Are you sure?" And as an after thought, "Fetch me coffee." As much as he didn't mind the angel girl, Bakura still had doubts that her information was correct. As far as he was concerned, she would know as much about espionage as a bowl of petunias would know about the history of devilled eggs.

Which, he assured himself, was very little.

"Of course I'm sure." She flashed a grin at him. "I suppose it's a good thing you had a reason, however absurd it may be. It's better than just smashing stuff for the sake of it, isn't it?" She smiled over her shoulder as she went to put the jug on, humming a nameless tune.

"...Yes. Yes, of course." Bakura smiled forcibly while nudging something that vaguely resembled a DVD player further underneath the kitchen table.

Anzu started to laugh, but caught herself. When had she started...enjoying herself? And not being terrified? Bakura's fiendish grin didn't seem as intimidating as it had when she first came to the house. She was starting to grow accustomed to staying with Yami and Bakura, after only a few days, and that frightened her. These were her _captors, _not her friends. She shifted uncomfortably beneath Bakura's gaze.

"So..." She mumbled, her face flushing. She busied herself with getting two cups out of the cupboard, ignoring the bowl of petunias that was amongst them. "Where's Yami today? I haven't seen him."

"Hell." Bakura replied calmly, picking up the pieces of the toaster and fiddling with them for a bit (perhaps he could make something fascinating out of the pieces) before reluctantly putting them in the rubbish. To occupy himself instead, he took a packet of marshmallows (where did Yami fetch _those _from?) and set about trying to roast them with a lighter.

"H – hell?" Anzu squeaked. "Is he...?"

"Dead?" Bakura supplied, chuckling. "Of course not. He's just stopping by to get medicine."

Anzu's eyes widened slightly at this. "Medicine? Who's sick?"

"He is." Bakura offered her a cup of coffee complete with partially-melted marshmallows and seated himself across from her at the table. "He has drake poisoning."

"Drake poisoning?" Anzu asked, and then cursed at herself when she realised she was repeating everything he said. "I've heard of it, I think. Don't people usually die from that?" Her insides twisted at the thought, and then she cursed again. She _was _becoming attached.

"Sometimes it doesn't. If it's not treated immediately, it kills the person within a few days. Yami wasn't treated until a few hours after he was bitten, so the poison was already in his blood." Bakura paused and took a sip of the coffee, screwing his face up as he tasted the burnt marshmallows. "Drake venom's a nasty bugger. No matter what you do, once it's in your system, it stays there, and the only way to survive is to take drake blood every few weeks to keep the poison under control."

He stretched and yawned, bored of the topic already. "The largest stock of drake blood is kept in the caverns of hell." He idly scratched his arm. "I don't really know why. It's kind of just their thing, blood. They're quite fond of it. But anyway, drake blood has a bad effect on people who take it. It drives them mad and they go into a rage, attacking whatever they can get at."

"That's..." Anzu's heart hammered in her chest, and she swallowed hard. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Not really, except clean up afterwards. It only lasts about an hour though. Yami's very single-minded about it. He demands that everyone steer clear of him when he goes to drink it. It's an order we have to follow, or else you'll find yourself pushing up daisies." He smiled wickedly for a moment, entertaining the thought.

Anzu had a sick feeling in her stomach. She quickly changed the subject. "What about you, you have wings. Are you an angel too?"

Bakura snorted in disgust. "Don't lump me with your kind. I'm a shapeshifter. This is my favourite form, and the one I usually have. It's useful for getting around in. But I can take the form of any living thing I feel like. I once impersonated the Queen of England." He visibly shuddered at the memory. "She has wrinkles in places I didn't think you could even get them."

"What do shapeshifters normally look like? I mean, when they were born."

"Or natural form? It varies, but mainly it's something like this." Bakura downed the rest of his coffe and shrank dramatically. His wings grew scaly and tiny, like fins. His hands were replaced with paws, and his head changed into what resembled a kitten's. He still had snowy-white hair, but it now ran all the way along his spine in small tufts. All in all, it looked like a cross between a kitten and a dragon.

Anzu squealed and hugged him. "You're cute!"

Bakura scowled and mewed grumpily, his tail flicking about in annoyance. As Anzu cooed over the shapeshifter, the door slammed open and Yami stomped in.

"Anzu!" Yami ordered. "Put Bakura down, you don't know where it's been." Anzu giggled and put Bakura down, letting him change back to his usual form.

"I'm going upstairs; leave me alone for a while." Yami glared at them warningly and stormed upstairs, slamming doors as he went..

"What was that all about?" Anzu blinked at the space where Yami has been moments before. She hadn't seen him angry - _really _angry, and this side of him was frightening. The look in his eyes had unsettled her. They seemed almost...carnal.

"Oh, don't worry about him, he always gets cranky about this time."

Bakura jumped a little as a scream was heard from upstairs. More screams followed, and something that sounded suspiciously like flesh being torn from a body.

Anzu shuddered and sank down at the table. "Why is he so angry? Does this happen to everyone?"

Bakura rubbed his face and sighed. "It differs from victim to victim, but the strength of it depends on how emotional the person is at any given time. In Yami's case, he has so many bad memories that the whole thing's particularly intense. He's so emotional sometimes, I mistake him for a girl. But he's pretty good at hiding it." He paused. "The emotion, not the girliness. In case you were wondering."

A blinding flash of purple flames tore through the house, followed by two more shockwaves of black fire. Bakura squawked suddenly and lunged to grab an antique plate as the aftershock knocked it off the cabinet. He yelped when an equally priceless vase hit the floor instead. "This is the worst thing about it all. We use so much money on replacing stuff."

Lamenting the broken pieces for a while, he waited patiently until the screams, magical energy, fire and the undesirable sounds of a body being mutilated eventually quieted. He waited for several more minutes to make sure they had stopped, and then stood up. "Well, come on." He motioned for Anzu to follow him, and turned to go up the stairs. "We better go find out what state he's in."

Anzu hesitantly walked up the stairs after Bakura, terrified of what she might find.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **Here's the updated chapter for Chapter Four. It's a bit shorter than the others, but I felt like there wasn't much more to add in terms of extra scenes, without ruining it. I'm on holiday at a lake in the alps, and we woke up to snow this morning. In summer! Thanks for reading, and I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas (for those who don't celebrate Christmas, I hope you had a wonderful day anyway)._

_Updated as of 26/12/07_

_-_

Bakura tentatively pushed open the door to Yami's room, muttering at the sight thst greeted them. The angel lay in pools of blood, of which were still being made larger by open wounds.

Anzu gasped and grabbed the door handle to steady herself, but Bakura just humphed and walked slowly over to his friend. It wouldn't help Anzu at all if she knew he was uncharacteristically unnerved by this particular episode. "Hey buddy," he whispered softly. His movements were slow and deliberate, taking care not to startle Yami. "What sort of mess have you gotten yourself into now?"

Yami didn't answer him but turned feverish crimson eyes to Anzu. "Get...her...out." He whispered hoarsely.

Anzu shook her head firmly. "No. No, I'm staying." She glanced at Bakura, daring him to say no. Bakura sighed, and then turned back to Yami, inspecting the wounds. There were the usual gouges from his fingernails, but also several deeper wounds that seeped blood slowly, one drop at a time. The clever little bugger had also torn a hole in his side, exposing the soft tissue and several broken ribs. Dizzy by the sight, Anzu sank to her knees. "Is he going to be alright?" She whispered.

"Don't be stupid." Bakura slung an arm round Yami's shoulders and carried him to the bed. "He'll be fine, but it's normally not as bad as this." He peered over his shoulder at her. "I'm guessing having you here has stirred up memories of his mother." Anzu gulped, guilt washing over her. She traced her finger over the diamond pattern in the carpet. "I'm so sorry. I feel useless, just sitting here doing nothing."

Bakura glanced up from washing the blood away from Yami's skin. "If you want to help, go and get a bowl of warm water and some bandages."

Anzu nodded and left for the items silently. "You sure outdid yourself this time, you ass." Bakura muttered. Yami gave a weak smile. "I know. Are you proud of me?"

"Pissed off more like. You got blood all over the floor. Now I'm going to have to vacuum, _again_." He grinned. "Maybe I shouldn't, and just let all the blood soak in so it becomes a red carpet. It's time for a redecoration anyway."

Yami chuckled, then stifled a gasp and clutched his side. Bakura rolled his eyes and moved Yami's hand away. "Stop that. You're just making it worse."

Anzu entered the room with the water and several rolls of bandages. "Will these do?"

Bakura nodded. "Just set them down over there." He motioned to a small side table. "It'll be a few hours before he's got enough energy to heal himself, so these will do to stop the blood flow." He unraveled a bandage and set about cutting strips off it. "Shapeshifters don't have any healing ability, which is why all I can do is apply mortal medicine practices."

Anzu blinked slowly, realizing something. "Wait." She pushed Bakura out of the way. "I'm an angel, I have healing magic." Bakura blinked. "Oh, so you do...well, hurry up girl! Get to it."

She knelt beside Yami's bed and raised her hands, letting waves of white light wash over his body.

Yami shook his head wearily and gently pushed her away. "Don't exhaust your resources. You may need them again soon." He broke off the healing procedure before Anzu could complete it. She glared at him. "What was that for? I haven't finished yet! You're only half healed!"

Yami ignored her latest comment but murmured his thanks to both Bakura and Anzu. He sighed and closed his eyes, drifting into a deep sleep. Anzu smiled and pulled the covers up around him. "So what now?" She asked Bakura quietly.

"Now, we leave him and wait. He'll wake up soon and then he can finish the healing."

-

After instructing Yami's undead minions on how to use exfoliating creams and body moisturisers properly, Anzu leaned back on a reclining chair in her room and sipped the hot chocolate Bakura had made for her (she had graciously declined his offer of marshmallows as well).

The zombies were actually very friendly. They were very curious about objects and things from the angel realm, and murmured and conversed with each other in their own clicking language. Anzu couldn't understand much of it, but she had come to recognise several words. Their favourites at the time were some French swear words Bakura had taught them. Of course, Bakura did insist that _everything_ the French said was a swear word.

From outside, she could hear the garbling of the zombies growing louder, and picked up the word they used to mean "master". Curious, she stuck her head out the window and looked down into the main courtyard. Yami was hovering several feet in the air, getting ready to spar with his men.

"Yami!" Anzu shouted. "What are you doing?"

He turned in mid-air. Awkwardly, and without his usual grace, Anzu noticed, as if he was afraid to stretch his muscles to much.

"Good morning Anzu!" He called cheerfully. He waved. "I'm exercising, obviously."

"And you shouldn't be!" Anzu was fuming. "You just got out of bed from being mortally _wounded_! What kind of idiot are you?"

Yami grinned and turned his back on her. "An idiot who knows what he's doing," he called over his shoulder. "I won't waste time just sitting around." He glanced back at her, a grin forming on his face. "Care to join us?"

"No! And that's no excuse! Now that I'm around here for a while, things are going to start happening differently!" She retorted. "Starting with the fact that you are going to bed _now!_ And you aren't getting up until I say you can!"

He stared at her, incredulous. "You can hardly tell me what to do, Anzu! This is _my _house, and _you're _the captive, remember?"

"I don't care! Get inside _now, _or else I'm coming out there and I will _drag _you in!"

Yami scowled and, ignoring the snickers from his men, floated over to Anzu's window. He lowered his voice. "Anzu, need I remind you -" His reprimand was caught short with a strangled squawk as Anzu grabbed him by his collar and yanked him roughly inside. He sighed and reluctantly allowed himself to be led upstairs (he wasn't _really _allowing anything - the death grip she had on his collar was making it difficult to breathe) by Anzu as she took absolutely no notice whatsoever of any of his 'mortal wounds' that she had so described earlier.

"There!" Anzu forced Yami into his bed and pulled the covers round him. "Now you are to stay there and rest until I say you are better."

"Yes ma'am." Yami said miserably. "You're even worse than Bakura."

Satisfied, Anzu flicked off the light. "Yami, it's for your own good. Now sleep."

By a strange coincidence, "Yami, it's for your own good" was exactly what Anzu kept telling herself when she went to check on him less than a few hours later. In her opinion, she was going to see him purely to make sure he was alright, not because she was lonely and wanted someone to talk to.

But Yami had other plans, and so was up and about rearranging his room. Bakura's comment about redecorating had got him in the mood for a spot of renovation. At that precise moment, he was in the process of knocking a hole in his wall. Who couldn't use an extra bathroom?

"Yami?" Anzu gently pushed the door open. "How are you..." She stopped, staring. "What are you doing up? And what are you doing knocking a _hole _in the wall? I told you to rest!"

Yami turned to her, mallet in hand. "Fine thanks, didn't feel like sleeping, need a new bathroom, and I don't really care." He stood up slowly, a trace of pain flashing across his face. "Anzu, did you really think I'd listen to you?"

Anzu faltered. "But...you said you would..." Yami chuckled, seeming to find the entire situation funny. "I have better things to do than lying around. I only said I'd sleep so you'd be at peace and leave." Anzu felt her face flush, and suddenly she was angry. "Don't you _care? _About lying to people, and overworking yourself!"

He raised an eyebrow, surprised at her anger. "What's the problem, Anzu? It's nothing serious."

"It's because I trusted you, Yami, and I thought you trusted me enough to believe that this would be better for you." He let out a short laugh."_Trusted _me, Anzu? I kidnapped you, and you say you _trust _me? You're getting a bit eager, don't you think?"

Hot, infuriated shame washed over her. She didn't expect him to understand how easily she became attached to people. One sign of friendliness and she was theirs. She knew it was because she could never turn to her father as a confidante, and his ever-watching eye had limited her choice for friends. Even though Yami and Bakura were her captors, she was beginning to think of them as friends. Apparently, they didn't feel the same.

"You, and everybody else, are just so - _cold! _All I want are a few friends, a bit of love or attention or _something _-" She felt tears spill out of her eyes but ignored them. "And none of you will do _anything! Go to hell!"_ She slapped Yami, turned on her heel and stormed out, shoving Bakura as he tried to get through the door.

"What the?" Bakura stared at her retreating back and turned to Yami. "What did you _do _to her?"

Yami blinked slowly, bewildered. He was silent for a while. Then, "I think she wants me to be in love with her."

"...Ew."

-

Menzero stirred uncomfortably in his sleep and grunted. His dreams of rolling in masses of money were interrupted by a cold voice in his mind.

"I have your daughter, Lord of Orlath, and if you value her life you will give me what I want." Yami's smirking face appeared in Menzero's dreams. Suddenly, Anzu's father was transported to a barren wasteland littered with debris and remains of human bodies. A chill wind cut through him like a knife, and a fresh blast of snow made him shiver even in the recesses of his mind.

Yami was perched on a snow-covered rock, his ash-grey wings folded around his body.

"Who are you?" Menzero croaked. "Where have you taken me?"

"Just a little corner of hell. And you don't really need to know who I am. If I told you I'd have to kill you." Yami paused and grinned wickedly. "Which I'm going to do anyway, so I suppose it doesn't really matter."

He idly inspected a fingernail. "All you need to know is that I have your daughter with me. And if you want her back, all you have to do is come to the mortal realm, find me, and if you find me you find your daughter." He paused to think. "Oh, and did I mention you have to let me kill you slowly and painfully too? Just a perk, as you would say."

"Why?" Menzero gasped. He was numb from the extreme cold and could barely get his words out. "Why me? What did Anzu or I do to you? What do you want with us?"

"Why don't you dig around in your lawsuit files? I'm sure you'll find all the answers to what you're looking for there."

"You scum! You better have not hurt my daughter, or you will severely regret it! I want her returned unharmed!"

"She's fine, there's no need to worry about that. Although...I can't promise her good treatment will continue if you don't come and fine me." Yami drummed his fingers on the rock and gazed at Menzero steadily. "My, my, you look a little bit cold there. Why don't I warm you up?"

He sent a blast of purple magic at Menzero, which sent the man screaming and clutching his head. The pain was intense, too intense. Slowly, Anzu's father felt his life fade...

And then he woke up, his forehead beaded with sweat. "Just...a...dream..." Menzero whispered, trying to catch his breath. "Just a dream."

He looked up and saw that icicles had formed over his bed hanging and frost covered the windowsill.

Was it just him, or was it getting cold in there?

-

_**End Note: **Well, there you have it. Thank you so much for reading this far, and I'd really appreciate it if you dropped me a review if you think I deserved it. And if you think I didn't, leave one anyway and tell me why. See you later! xx_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note: **__I actually updated this story! After what, 3 years? I know, I know. There are 4 horsemen riding towards me...wait, that's the apocalypse. I somehow got back into the Yu-Gi-Oh! fandom, and after trawling through all my old stories I got the urge to update this one. My writing style has changed a lot in 3 years, (hopefully) for the better. I'm going to make a concentrated effort to finish this story. Anyway, thank you for looking at this, I hope you enjoy it, and don't maul me for my sad efforts. -_

_-_

_Click. _

The lighter snapped shut.

_Click._

Bakura flipped it open again. Glowering, he lit it, and brought the flame close to his face, almost touching. Almost, but not quite.

_Click._

"Stop playing with fire." Yami sauntered across the kitchen floor and took a bottle of water from the fridge. "Do you _want _to hurt yourself?"

Bakura stared at the flame. "Might be a good idea."

Yami eased himself onto the kitchen bench, his eyebrows knitted together. "What's your problem? Don't you get moody as well." He sighed and leaned back. "I've had enough of that sort of thing with Anzu. One minute she's trying to coddle me like a child and the next she's screaming 99 reasons about why I should go to hell. Ah!" He sat up suddenly. "I forgot to mention it yesterday. Old Marge wants you to remember that it's hunt-a-lost-soul night on Sunday."

"I don't really care."

"Why not? You love hunt-a-lost-soul nights. What's gotten into you?"

Bakura remained silent, instead slipping the lighter into his pocket. Seeing Yami's stare, he glared at him. "Leave it, Yami. I'm not in the mood for your attitude just now. I'm sick of your bullshit and I'm sick of you. I'm out of here."

"Bakura? ...What? You're not making sense! _Bakura!" _A disappearing mass of white hair signalled the sulky shapeshifter's exit. Yami scowled and, in a fit of anger, hurled the empty water bottle across the room. He hadn't done _anything, _and Bakura was acting like he had a stick - no, a whole _branch _up his ass.

Something stirred in the back of Yami's mind, nagging at him that he still had work to do, and sitting here sulking wouldn't get anything done. He sighed, rubbing his shoulder, and went to pick the bottle up. There was no point getting irritated by his friend's moods. He had bigger things to worry about.

-

Seto Kaiba had money. _Lots _of money. He had learned many years ago that money could get him almost anything in the world. There were exceptions, of course (some people liked to think that love was unbuyable), but even then a small amount of money could get you someone so nice you'd think you were in love after all. And if that didn't work, money could get you drugs or an operation to help you get over the fact you were never really in love to begin with. That said, he wasn't the sort of man to make a mountain of money and then sit on it. No, he was determined to make that mountain bigger. And bigger.

And there was no better way to do that than to sell out certain people to other certain people.

Which is how Seto Kaiba became a private investigator. Not an ordinary, run-of-the-mill private investigator, who most probably couldn't privately investigate their way out a paper _or _plastic bag, but the sort of private investigator who, once on your case, was going to find out everything about you, down to your preferred brand of toilet paper. He also wouldn't leave the fun stuff up to the police or hired thugs. He _was _the hired thug. After finding out about your preferred brand of toilet paper, he'd then proceed to punish you. Severely. All within an extremely short amount of time. And all while looking effortlessly cool. And wearing a trenchcoat.

Needless to say, Seto Kaiba was exactly the sort of person you'd want as your private investigator.

Which was why Menzero jumped to hire him.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear, Kaiba. You _will _find my daughter. Money is no object, _whatsoever_."

Kaiba smiled inwardly. This was just what he liked to hear. "I understand, sir. Your daughter will be returned, without doubt. However, this will only work if you agree to one condition: _you must not interfere_. Let me do my job, my way."

"Of course." Menzero grimaced and pushed some papers across the desk towards Kaiba. "These are the reports from the women at the orphanage, and an artist's rendition of the man who came to me in the dream." His eyes narrowed.

"Once you get Anzu, leave the boy. His ass belongs to me."

-

Finding information about Anzu's kidnapper wasn't an easy task. No-one had seen the abduction take place, apart from possibly the orphaned children. And they were far too interested in trying to play with Kaiba to be of any use.

"You sure you didn't see or hear anything?" He asked the matron while detaching a child from his leg.

"I'm quite sure, sir. Do you think you could find our Anzu?" The old lady smiled. "She was such a lovely wee dear, always reading to the children and helping out here..."

"Have you ever seen this man before?" Kaiba interrupted, thrusting the drawing of the kidnapper under her nose.

"Oh, my lord! I know that child! Well, he must be all grown now. A boy with hair just like that came to this orphanage many years ago." She smiled at the memory. "Poor wee thing, he didn't have many friends."

He was beginning to grow impatient. "Listen, lady, do you know where he is now?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. He came to us after his mother was put to death for stealing from Anzu's own father. He didn't stay too long; he was deported to the mortal realm not long after he got here."

Something tugged at Kaiba's memory. '_I remember that court case! It was in every newspaper. So this man is the son of the executed thief? This should make things easier.' _He realised the matron was still smiling at him. "Ah, thank you for your information. I'll contact you if I need anything more." Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and headed back down the main road into the city. If anyone would know something about the man, it would be the common people of the town.

And they certainly had some tales to tell. It turned out that there were quite a few legends surrounding the son of Hatsumi Mutou, as he discovered her name to be. He hadn't found anyone who knew the name of the boy, but almost everyone he talked to had heard some kind of rumour about him. Some said he drove himself insane after his exile, and killed himself in his grief. Some thought he was still alive, living as a recluse or as the head of an underground faction intent on dominating both realms. The strangest story he was told was that the boy became a scientist and changed his DNA to that of a Norwegian Garden Rat.

He ruled that possibilty out.

As he was sitting outside a cafe, pouring over the statements from the townspeople, a shrill ringing heralded an incoming call on his cellphone. He glanced at it, sighed, and flipped it open.

"Mokuba, what is it? I told you I'm busy."

The tentative voice of his younger brother sounded scratchy coming out of the phone. "I know, but...brother, I miss you. You haven't been home in ages! You're always so busy with -"

"Silence, Mokuba. We'll talk about this later. I have work to do." He ended the call and slipped the phone in his pocket. He sighed and picked up another file, a nagging voice in the depth of his mind telling him that he might have just screwed up. Big time.

-

Drifting through the craggy cliffs surrounding their house, Bakura's thoughts turned to his quarrel with Yami. He hadn't intended to get short with his friend, but lately he had been feeling...out of sorts, to say the least. His already vicious temper was becoming more unruly. '_Ever since that angel girl came here...she's getting to you.'_ He snarled and shoved the thought of his head.

Still, wisps of it trickled out through his mind until it was all he could think about. _Was _Anzu's prescence having an effect on him? The answer to that seemed obvious enough, and the acknowledgement of that idea irked him. He wasn't the sort to get worked up over a girl. An angel girl, no less. He balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms until he could feel his skin tear. It was a sign of weakness, being so affected!

He sighed and dropped onto a grassy ledge. The cliff face was smooth and cool behind his back, and the crisp wind was a welcome relief from the oppressing heat of the valley below. '_But why am I taking it out on Yami? He's never done anything to me.' _That much was true. In fact, Yami and Bakura had been close for many years now, and had met not long after Yami was exiled to the mortal realm.

_"Dragon?" A small boy tipped his head to one side curiously. An odd creature was zipping around a tree not far from him, blissfully unaware it was being watched. _

_"Dragon!" The boy reached his arms out to the creature and it took off, flying away from him. "Sir Dragon, come back!" He took chase and followed the little thing, doggedly following it until it grew tired and stopped to rest on a rock. Yami very carefully took the creature in his hands and held it still, patting its fur while it struggled in his hold._

_He then shrieked when it changed into a boy. _

_"You changed!"_

_"Yes, I did."_

_"You were a - a thing before!"_

_"Yes, I was."_

_"And now you're a person!"_

_"Yes, I am."_

_"What did you do that for?"_

_"Stop shouting, idiot." The child bent down and picked up a handful of stones, tossing them in the air. "You shouldn't go grabbing people like that."_

_"You shouldn't go being...little." _

_The strange boy laughed. "You're not big yourself!" He stuck out a hand. "I'm Bakura, from Illary."_

_Yami stared at the hand uncertainly, then carefully shook one of the fingers. "I'm Yami, from..." he faltered, an image of his mother flashed into his head (stop the blood please stop it) and he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. He choked back a sob. "...Nowhere."_

_"Well, Yami from nowhere, let's be partners."_

_"Part...ners? What for?" This strange new person who wasn't a dragon confused him. It was almost like he wanted to be friends._

_"I'm hungry, and you look like you haven't eaten in weeks. Let's find food."_

_Yami's eyes flashed. "I can find it on my own!"_

_Bakura laughed again. "Defensive! Come on though, everyone needs some backup." He turned and trotted away through the forest._

_"W - wait!" Yami sprinted to keep up. _

_"I'd like to come."_

Bakura sighed and lay down, staring up at the cloudless sky. _'Where do we go from here?'_

-

Yami wandered aimlessly around the training yard, rather bored. He yawned and stretched, raising up on his toes and reaching his arms into the air. He turned slowly in a circle, then dropped back to his heels. He was still hurting from Bakura's rebuffal, and it was stopping him from making any progress on his plans. His soldiers weren't much help either - they were too busy trying to eat a bowl of petunias they had found. As he was about to head inside to bother Anzu, his cellphone rang.

Surprised, he fished it out of his pocket and stared at it. He was hardly ever rung on it, and then only by his soldiers if he was away. Bored as he was, it couldn't do any harm.

"Hello?"

"Is this the son of Hatsumi Mutou?"

Yami stiffened and growled. "Who the hell is this?"

"I'll take that as a yes." On the other end of the line, Kaiba was quite surprised. He hadn't expected the number a gambler had given him to be of any real use, but had tried it anyway to humour himself.

"My name is Seto Kaiba, and I've been hired to track you down."

Yami relaxed and let himself grin. _'About time, Menzero.' _

"Well then that's perfectly alright, Kaiba. But let me warn you - I won't show myself that easily. Good luck on your quest though. You're going to need it."

"Oh, I rely on skill, Mutou, not luck." He smiled to himself.

"And I _will _find you. And when I do, nothing in this world is going to save you."

-

_**Author's Note: **__I forgot how hard it is to write chapter fics. There's so much writing involved! Now I remember why I switched to collections. Anyway, thank you for continuing to read this far, and I'm sorry that the style of this chapter is so different from the previous ones. I also apologise if I haven't quite gotten back into the swing of this story yet, but I'll keep trying, so please review._


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note:**__Here's another update, a few months down the line. Thanks to those who continue to review, and those that are new to this story. Please leave your comments in a review. Enjoy._

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, the day after Yami had received the call from Kaiba. He had neglected to mention it to Anzu - whether it was because he didn't want to get Anzu's hopes up, or because he was retaliating after her outburst the day before, he didn't quite know.

At that precise moment, he was settled in a tree, of all places, playing with a bowl of petunias he had found in the branches, and watching Anzu talk to his soldiers in the soft light. He was quite sure she didn't know he was there, and that was fine by him. He didn't particularly want to incur any more of her wrath.

And as far as he knew, Bakura was still off somewhere, huffing about and sulking. This was also fine by him, as he was in quite an antisocial mood. The nasty, traitorous part of his mind whispered that it was because of the phone call. Now that Menzero had someone on his case, they'd be that much closer to finding Anzu and taking her home. And the nasty, traitorous part of his mind whispered that that was a bad thing.

He swung his leg gently back and forth against the trunk of the tree, enjoying the pinnacle of the sun's rays as they sifted through the leaves. The golden heat warmed his bones and he breathed deeply. He turned his face to it, enjoying the feeling of his skin firming to the almost oppressive light, and gazed at the sun through heavy-lidded eyes. The warmth muddled his mind and softly molded his thoughts together. He knew he needed sleep, but his mind was filled with schemes and ideas. He still hadn't quite figured everything out, and his plan was beginning to seem less simple every day.

_Wait until Menzero came to find his daughter, kill him, and let the girl go. _

There wasn't anything obscenely difficult about that. But that same nasty, traitorous little part of his mind was screaming that depriving Anzu of her father – and seeing her leave – was the last thing he wanted to do at that time.

He waited for a moment, to see if any earth-shattering realisation would come to him.

Nothing happened.

He waited a moment more, and nothing continued to happen. He needed to get out of this place. So with a reluctant sigh, he eased himself out of his tree and dropped to the ground. Anzu turned at the sound, but he had already drifted away, a slight figure disappearing into the light.

Anzu made to follow him, but was stopped by Bakura stepping in front of him and offering her a cup of green tea and a smile. "Don't bother with him, Anzu. He was probably just bored." He took her hand. "Come with me, I want to show you the curtains."

"But, I was just going to see if he was alright." Anzu slipped her hand out of his hand, casting a worried look in the direction Yami had gone. "He might need someone."

Something shifted in his eyes.

But his smile never faltered. "Well, let's give him a minute and then we can go see him, together." He grinned wider. "I can be your backup."

Anzu hesitated, but then smiled back at him. "Okay. You're probably right, anyway. He'd just be bored."

Bakura beamed at her and placed one hand on the small of her back, guiding her inside.

* * *

Yami stood on a cliff. His adopted world was spread out beneath him, parts of it hidden by shifting glimmers of white light in the corners of his vision as the air warped before his eyes. It was perfectly still. Nothing moved. He felt like he hadn't breathed in a long time.

_Time._

That was strange. Time was motionless here. A windblown white petal seemed frozen in front of his eyes, but he waited, and all of a sudden the ice broke away from it in rings of sparkling light, and it was caught by the air and drifted away.

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

All he could feel was the air, the light, and the chasing presence that was catching up to him. Too quickly. He figured Menzero would have a detective on him, but he hadn't counted on it happening so quickly. If he was honest with himself (which he was rarely fond of doing), he wasn't at all that confident with his ability to keep away from Kaiba and whoever else Menzero had hired.

The silence broke and wind rushed past him, carrying with it golden leaves and flowers and white dust. It dropped off the cliff and blew down towards his home, towards his men and Bakura and…Anzu. They were all he had at this point, and he was starting to wonder if they were all he needed, and ever would need. Did he really require vengeance on Menzero? Was whatever he gained from killing him worth that much?

_As soon as you kill him, you've lost her._

He cursed his lack of planning. It was a rash decision, taking her, and he hadn't planned on regretting it. But it was too late now – there was no way he could send her back (even if he wanted to) without opening his door to an execution squad. He had places to go, of course, once he was finished with Menzero, that he would hide and wait out the aftermath in until the agencies had all but forgotten about him. But he didn't think he'd have to stay there _permanently, _and Menzero was too dangerous to be left alone.

There was also the thought that after Menzero's death, Anzu might stay with him, out of having nowhere else to go.

But that was a ridiculous hope.

_As soon as you kill him…_

She'd hate him. He didn't want to face the look in her eyes. He didn't want…to _hurt _her.

He threw his head back and laughed bitterly, the sound loud and harsh across the valley. He was an idiot. He was an idiot to feel so strongly about a girl. She hadn't even _done _anything! She had just been there, doing nothing but being with him – with him, not judging him, _caring. _

That care was what mattered. No one he had ever met, save his mother, had cared enough about him, and here was his _captive _asking to be his friend. It was unnatural. It was _unnatural_, and he had to put a stop to it.

He breathed suddenly. Shutting his eyes tightly, he screamed to the air above him, thrusting a jet of dark energy to the sky. He jerked his hands up, palms down, and concentrated furiously on materialising a barrier around his home. Slabs of rock tore themselves out of the cliff he was standing on and were thrown angrily against each other. Crackling fire shot form his fingertips and arced across his property. With each scream tiny drops of blood seeped from the skin on his fingers, welling up until the blood spiralled down his wrist and mixed with the sweat dripping from his brow.

Fissures cleaved jagged lines through the cliff, carving it into enormous chunks that fell away from beneath Yami's feet, hurtling to the barrier below where they smashed into it and were obliterated. His feet left the remaining rock as he rose slowly into the air, surrounded by the chaos that was drawn into a whirlwind around him, purple and black lightning sparking from his hands and shrieking into the barrier. He pushed everything he had into it, strengthening it more than he ever thought he could, and then –

It stopped. The rocks fell, silent, the fire shrunk back to him, he was watching it all with deaf ears…time stopped.

He bent forward and gasped for breath.

Light blinded him.

He turned onto his back, slowly, and stared at the blue sky, his wings spread out for balance.

One deep breath, an inhalation of the warm air, and his wings slowly dropped.

And that was how Anzu saw him, as he was sinking towards her with his eyes half-closed, falling into light.

* * *

"You can assure me these details are correct?"

"Yes sir, I bloody well can. For a price, though, if you get me." A half-drunk cobbler leered at Kaiba and rapped his knuckles on the hollow table. "One o' my boys' friends saw the one you're looking for. Said he was monstrous, too, with a mouth full o' teeth that shined. He cast a spell on him."

"Did he now?" Kaiba shoved down a yawn and shifted in his seat. "But do you actually have a location for him?"

"Uh, I reckon I might. Get me a beer, and I'll see what I can come up with. Maybe…a coastal place, small and kinda quaint, y'know, with them wee window shutters all blue and white and that sort of thing."

Kaiba snarled and slammed his fist on the table. "Listen to me, scum, I need information, and I need it now." He lowered his voice and leant forward, placing his hand on the man's shoulder. "I have ways of getting that information. So if you're not going to help me willingly, I'll have to get my hands dirty."

The man yelled as Kaiba applied pressure with his thumb to a soft point above his collarbone. "Alright! I'll tell you what you want, but get yer hands off me!" He gasped and sagged when Kaiba let go. "Look, all I know is this kid saw a guy who looks like that down in hell. Y'know, Jono does some after-school work down there…anyway, he was there getting some medicine or summat."

"What medicine?"

"Er, I dunno…" Kaiba leant forward again. "It was some sorta blood thing! Drake, I think. I dunno what the point is though, sounds kinda like useless information." He eyes Kaiba warily. "Why you wanna know, anyway? This guy in trouble or something?"

"That's none of your business." Kaiba stood aprubtly and threw a handful of notes onto the table. "There's your money." He turned suddenly and strode out, a small smile on his face.

"Drake blood…interesting, _very_ interesting."

He pushed the door from the pub open, but stopped as the shrill ringing of his cellphone reached his ears. He pulled it from his coat pocket, glanced at the incoming number he recognised as Mokuba's, and pressed the End button.

He moved on into the darkening city.


End file.
